


Growing Pains

by Bayyvon



Category: Marilyn Manson (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Student/Teacher, M/M, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Pissy Brian, Sassy Jeordie, Tags May Change, Teacher-Student Relationship
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-02-21
Updated: 2017-09-23
Packaged: 2018-09-26 01:46:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,870
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9856499
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bayyvon/pseuds/Bayyvon
Summary: Jeordie isn't sure what it is about Mr. Warner.





	1. I will wake up to a blinding light

  
The cheap fluorescent lights above Jeordie's head flicker and buzz in a staccato rhythm that grates on his nerves as he and the rest of his 12 classmates impatiently await the arrival of their semi-permanent substitute, or in other words: the replacement they hired for Mr. Hughes after he had an acute breakdown during class. The handle on the door jiggles, and there's an eerily simultaneous head swivel as the man rushes in, clearly flustered.  He smiles sheepishly as he discards a clearly worn down leather jacket onto the back of the ugly green rollie chair situated behind the desk. He adjusts himself and tries to meet as many eyes as he can before speaking.  

 

  
"Hello. Before I begin introductions, I'd like to formally apologize for my lack of punctuality, I was having car difficulty." He rubs the back of his neck, clearly embarrassed. Hazel eyes are circled with dark rings that indicate lack of sleep, and inky black hair is slicked back against his skull. "I'm Mr. Warner, and I'll be substituting for Mr. Hughes for the remainder of the school year." 

 

  
"D'you know what happened to him?" A girl three rows away asks softly. 

  
"Uh, n-no, no, I don't, I'm sorry." Mr. Warner smiles sheepishly, visibly reddening at the tips of his ears. "Alright," He grabs the light green roster booklet from the desk, and begins to read off roll. "Korey Allen?"

 

_"Here."_

 

  
When Mr. Warner gets to his name, Jeordie  sighs  loudly  and annoyed, but doesn't bother to correct him."Jeordie White?"  The adult  raises his brows at the teen, and waits until he responds with an indignant 'here,' before moving on.  


 

There isn't a lesson that day, just an irritating kind of 'game' of getting to know everyone that Jeordie simply sloughs off with sarcastic responses. He doesn't feel the need to justify it. It was too far into his senior year for him to actually give a damn. And honestly, he didn't need this class to graduate anyway.

 

He settles happily into his computer chair after school, bag discarded just inside his bedroom door. He rolls his shoulders, bitching to himself about the weight of his goddamn piece of shit worth-less-than-the-paper-they-were-printed-on textbooks. Even his bass was lighter than that shit. When he's massaged the kinks out to the best of his ability, he signs into his computer and his messenger chirps happily at him.

 

_3:15_

_MARILYN SAYS: Hey, doll. How was your day?_

_3:15_

_TWIGGY SAYS: Long as fuck._

_TWIGGY SAYS: How'd the first day at that new job go?_

_3:16_

_MARILYN SAYS: First off, I was late, second off, it was bad._

_MARILYN SAYS: I don't think they like me, Twigs._

 

Twiggy chuckles, and despite himself, begins to turn warm at Marilyn's nickname for him. 

_3:17_

_TWIGGY SAYS: Aw, Mar, don't be so hard on yourself. I'm sure you did great._

 

Marilyn and Twiggy had messaging back and forth for months, and the teen had kind of started to develop inklings of feelings for Marilyn. But it would never work. Online relationships just did not work. So he would settle for messaging, and light flirting. Hopefully his feelings would ebb with more time. He was much too scared to open up to Marilyn about it, afraid the older man would shun him and they would lose contact. He had poured himself dry to Marilyn, every thought, every dream, was all out there for him to know and Jeordie would be damned if he was going to lose the older man over a fleeting little teenage crush (caused by raging hormones, no doubt).

 

Marilyn sighs heavily as he leans back in his chair, messenger pinging once in a while as Twiggy enthusiastically divulged information about his new project. He responded when appropriate, with the right amount of enthusiasm so Twiggy would keep talking. It scared him when the younger man would get on a roll about something he clearly has passion about but would then suddenly suck it all right back in because he was convinced that no one gave a shit. Marilyn felt a sharp twinge in his heart when Twiggy says suddenly,

 

_Mar, I'm sorry, you must be tired from working all day. I'm gonna go. Maybe finish some homework._

 

_5:25_

_MARILYN SAYS: Twiggy_

_MARILYN SAYS: Wait_

_MARILYN SAYS: I'm sorry._

_5:26_

_MARILYN SAYS: I am tired, but that doesn't mean you have to go._

_MARILYN SAYS: I was painting and thinking too hard, I didn't mean to drop off like that._

_MARILYN SAYS: Would you maybe wanna play me somethin'?_

 

A few minutes stretch on for what seems like an eternity and then some until Twiggy finally responds with

_Lemme set up._

 

Twiggy rustles around in his desk drawer for a pick, and adjusts his mic. He switches on his audio feed and begins to play softly, satisfied when his fingers glide easily along the frets to play the nameless tune he'd been humming throughout the day. He plays for a long time, letting himself be lost in the music, when his messenger pings at him. He stops playing, and hits mute, before reading in the incoming message.

 

_8:25_

_MARILYN SAYS: Twigs? Where is it you said you were from again?_

_8:26_

_TWIGGY SAYS: Ft. Lauderdale_

_TWIGGY SAYS: why?_

_8:26_

_MARILYN SAYS: Just wondering.._

_MARILYN IS TYPING....._

_MARILYN IS TYPING....._

_8:29_

_MARILYN SAYS: I'm gonna go, Twigs. I love you. Im here if you need me okay?_

_8:30_

_TWIGGY SAYS: okay. I love you too, Mar._

Marilyn leans back in his chair, scrubbing a hand over his face. He and Twiggy had been in the same area for almost a month and neither of them had any idea. He could kick himself, really.

 

"You, Brian Warner, are a damn fool." He says to his reflection in the powered down laptop screen.

 

He fleetingly contemplates shooting Twiggy a text explaining that his job had brought them into the same area but his finger hesitated over the send button. He saves it as a draft and decides that tomorrow he was going to try his damndest to get these kids to like him.


	2. Curse all my mistakes

Brian suddenly finds himself in the rowdiest classroom known to man. He wasn't sure what had happened between last night and this morning but he was about to explode. The class was abuzz with chatter, incessant even after he had taken roll and begun his lecture.

 

He was done talking over them and decided to talk  _to_ them instead.

 

"Alright. Enough. Somebody wanna tell me what's going on?"

 

"What'dyou mean?" Someone, Brian thinks her name might be Claire, asks. The room has suddenly become quiet and everyone is focused on him.

 

"What's going on? What happened? Why all the buzz all of a sudden?"

 

No one speaks and Jeordie-- the curly haired boy Brian had a bit of a hitch with yesterday-- begins to laugh. And the cycle starts again. There's so much noise Brian is ready to just send all of them to the office he's tried to talk over them and then talk to them and he isn't getting through.

 

"Next person to talk gets a write up."

 

And the silence that follows is so stark that it nearly makes his head spin.

 

Until Brian turns his head to look at the board to find someone had drawn a crude picture of himself, and a handful of anatomically incorrect penises (some of them even had wings) and one very small vagina in the corner. Above all of it, someone had defaced where he had written his name the day before and wrote "Mr. WHOREner."

 

And the class begins to roar with laughter. Jeordie is so red in the face and his stomach is heaving so hard from laughter he thinks he may vomit. He really hopes someone caught this whole ordeal on their phone because he needs to see the face of horror and discomfort about eight more times.

 

"Alright. Who did it?"

 

Something in Brian's gut tells him it was Jeordie, but he can't act on it and no one is speaking up.

 

"If no one fesses up, I'll send very single one of you to the office."

 

And Jeordie could have laughed out loud when little blue haired lot-boy Moanie-- known in the public education system as Matt-- raises his hand. Moanie had never done a rude thing in his life, but was doing it to cover everyone else's ass like the angel he was. "All I did was the one of you. I cant tell you who did everything else because honestly I fell asleep."

 

"Thank you." Mr. Warner sighs deeply, producing a pad of pink slips from his pocket. "Come see me after class."

 

"He can't." Jeordie frowns, the expression etching deeply into his features.

 

"Come again?" Brian feels his whole face pinch as he makes eye contact with the boy behind the curls.

 

"Moanie can't come see you after class. He's got... personal business. I'll do it."

 

"Personal business?"

 

"Yeah." Jeordie raises his brows. "It was my idea anyway."

 

Brian feels his stomach twist. But he tries to tamp it down as he scrawls Jeordie's name onto a detention slip, and hands it to him.

 

"We'll talk this afternoon."

 

"See ya then," Jeordie wiggles his brows in mock flirtation at Mr. Warner, who in turn frowns more openly.

 

"All right, where were we..."

 

 *

 

Jeordie stands at his locker with his back towards where Mr. Warner stood just outside the classroom door, scanning the halls for any other signs of life. Now the only people that remained in the building were staff and activity participants. Jeordie has his phone in hand, sending rapid fire texts to Marilyn as he drags ass to the English classroom.

 

_3:04_

_TWIGGY SAYS: I just wanna be at home._

_TWIGGY SAYS: I've had a fucking miserable day, and this asshole wants to keep me another half hour?_

_TWIGGY SAYS: for a fucking joke._

_TWIGGY SAYS: bullshit._

He gets no response from Marilyn, figures he's still at his new fancy position somewhere in the underbelly of the Florida State Public Educational System.

 

The curly haired teen pinches his features, making challenging eye contact with Brian as he enters the unoccupied classroom.

 

"Alright, I'm here, now what?" He asks, tossing his bag into a chair, and perching on the accompanying desk top.

 

"Jeordie," Brian sighs, watching him as he swings his legs back and forth like he didn't have a care in the world. "I'd just like to know why, exactly, you did this."

 

"Just tryna loosen you up a little, man. Make ya laugh? Ha-ha, funny?"

 

Brian is quiet in his contemplation, scratching a hand through thin black hair. He pushes his glasses up his nose, and pauses, letting the silence lapse until it was nearly suffocating.

 

"Alright. Thank you, for being honest, Jeordie. Go on, I'm sure you have somewhere to be."

 

After Jeordie leaves, Brian deflates with a heavy sigh, bracing himself on the lip of the desk. He just wasn't sure  _what_ it was about Jeordie White.

 

_3:45_

_MARILYN SAYS: hey, dollface. Sorry I'm late, I had some school stuff to take care of._


End file.
